Biding Time
by shiningstar15
Summary: TRAVELER fic. Tyler wants to Will to tell them everything he knows. Rated T for violence and whatnot.


Sorry if this is disjointed and hard to understand. The last two books I read had almost no punctuation whatsoever,and now I've been thinking like that.

**Spoilers :** Uhhh. Not that spoilery really, but up to the episode 8,I guess.

**Disclaimer :** I own nothing.

* * *

The strong will resist and the weak will say anything to end the pain.

- Ulpian

* * *

He watches them from underneath his half closed lids.

The rope cuts into his skin. A dull aching pain has settled low in his stomach.

Hushed whispers .Damp air. The smell of mildew.

He shifts in his chair.

He's awake.

His head is forced up roughly,and his eyes meet Tyler's.

What happened, he asks calmly, surveying his surroundings. They were in what appeared to be an old, abandoned building.

You passed out after you stole another car for us to escape in.

Where are we?

You don't need to know that.

I think I have a right to.

Tyler laughs, an angry laugh. A _can you believe this guy? _kind of laugh.

You don't have rights to anything, after what you did to us.

He half smiles.

Maybe I don't.

The eyes probe his.

So. Did you blow up the limo?

The infuriating smile widens slightly.

Did you?

No reply.

That limo had evidence in it which could have exonerated us! he yells.

No reply.

What is it you aren't telling us, _Will?_

We can make us tell you.

He looks amused. Is that so?

And what technique do you plan on using?

Shabak?

Water torture?

Electrocution?

Strappado?

Or maybe you're just going to inject me with a little sodium pentothal.

Blank stares.

He leans towards them slightly, ignoring the protest of pain in his side.

I'm going to let you in on a little secret, he says, in a conspiratorial whisper.

Anything you do to me - anything - I can take it. Anything you do to me - worse has been done. Anything you -

He doesn't even flinch when Tyler walks over to him, and presses on the bullet wound.

He sucks his breath in through his teeth, and focuses outside of the pain.

It was kind of ironic, really. He'd done almost the exact same thing to Alex just hours before. Karma's sucks.

Tyler presses harder.

He can feel the Krazy Glue start to rip away from the edges of his skin.

Finally, a strangled gasp escapes from his lips.

Stop it, Tyler!, Jay bursts out.

He looks back at him. He's the guy who set us up! He knows something Jay. We have to make him tell us.

That doesn't make it right, Tyler.

He knows about my Dad, Jay. He is almost pleading for understanding.

Will smiles a little to himself. He knew even before he met Tyler that he would have daddy issues. Carlton Fog was a hard man to please.

Will works at the knots as they debate back and forth. He doesn't really expect to escape. He'd had a hell of a time getting away from Kate, and he hadn't even been injured then. Although, he _was_ trained to be a killing machine.

A red bloom spreads across his T-shirt.

He can feel the blood spilling down his abdomen, running down his thigh, his calf. It traces the curve of his ankle, and runs onto his sock and into his running shoe. He can feel it collecting there, hot and sticky.

Pain radiates from the small hole in his side. He marvels, as he has many times before, at how a small piece of lead can cause so much damage. So much pain.

Scorching fingers probe his insides. Burning knives dice up his intestines. It feels like someone is stabbing him with a red hot poker.

Think past it, Traveler.

He focuses on Maya's face.

Her laugh. Her eyes.

The last day they'd spent together. The last time they'd made love.

She'd fallen asleep against him while they were watching TV. He'd carried her up the stairs easily and placed her on the bed.

He'd shut off the lamp so she wouldn't wake up. He'd turned to go downstairs to lock up. She'd pulled at his wrist and smiled groggily.

Where are you going?

To lock the door.

Well hurry back. She stretched out her syllables ._I'll be waaaaiting for you._

He'd laughed and dropped a kiss on her cheek.

I will.

_The last time he'd heard her voice._

Jay gets up and storms out. Tyler follows him.

He can hear them arguing in the next room.

The last time he'd heard her voice, she'd been screaming tortured screams. Begging for her life. Begging Will to save her.

He couldn't.

He, who'd made it his life's mission to save people.

He closes his eyes and focuses on the pain instead.

_It was his fault she was dead._

He deserves everything he's going to get.

He opens his eyes and Tyler is there, watching him.

Looks like it's just you and me, he says.

Neither of them speaks.

Well?

Well what?

Well, aren't you going to make me talk.

He smiles grimly.

Correction. Try - to make me talk.

Tyler looks slightly surprised. He thought he'd been making progress, and here he was, practically asking for more.

You know, I don't get you, he says.

He walks around the chair that Will is secured to.

Your hands are almost loose, he says, retightening the bonds. You could've escaped if you wanted.

Why didn't you?

He surprises them both when he answers, his voice cold and flat and hard.

Because I deserve everything I get. Because I deserve to die like this.

I killed her, just as if I was the one who pulled the trigger.

Tyler stares into his bluegrey eyes.

They are cold and empty.

_Eyes colder than a winter's soul... _

No one's ever gotten anything from me that I didn't want them to know. I was trained - programmed - to withstand anything.

He pauses.

But I had one weakness. And he found it, and exploited it.

Freed did?

He nods, almost imperceptibly.

He suddenly feels tired. Tired of the lies, tired of running, tired of the constant fear of being discovered for what he is.

They wanted me to talk. About you. How you escaped. The painting. How it disappeared.

I lied, of course. But they had a recording of the phone call. And they wanted to know where the painting was.

They had Maya. That's how they got me to talk. I told them everything that they wanted to know...but they killed her anyway.

She was screaming and crying, begging for her life.

Can you even imagine what it's like, listening to someone die like that? Someone you love?

He doesn't wait for an answer.

I promised her -

His voice cracks.

I promised her that I'd always keep her safe.

I failed her, he says dully.

Something like pity flits over Tyler's face. She was nice, he offers.

He laughs bitterly. Yes. Yes she was.

Tyler leans against the wall, considering his options.

He doesn't know how safe it is to keep him tied up like this. All the color has drained from Will's face. His lips are dry and cracked. There is a smear of blood over his right eye.

The only sound is the steady splash of Will's blood on the floor. A pool of it is creeping slowly outwards.

He walks over to Will, and lifts his shirt to check out his wound.

It is red and swollen around the edges. Parts of it are dried and black. Each heartbeat brings forth another rivulet of blood. The Krazy Glue has been washed off. Heat radiates from it.

The bile start to rise in his throat.

It's going to be septic soon.

A startled glance towards his face. How do you stop it?

Medicine. Medicine we don't have.

Surely _you_ know someone who can get you the medication.

If I go to any of my official contacts, they'll kill me.

Also, I'm tied to a chair.

Tyler eyes him warily. He doesn't actually want him to die.

Will knows this. Tyler is predictable.

He knows that Tyler is easily susceptible to praise. He's in constant need of validation. He wants his father's approval more than anything else in this world. He can be volatile and hotheaded. He's spent his life searching for somewhere to belong; somewhere where he will be accepted for who he was.

Jay is a harder study. He's often quiet and serious. Hard worker. Has well defined goals. He plans to marry Kim someday. He'd make a good father to the 1.7 kids or however many the average is these days. He'll live in the suburbs and drive a sedan. A silver one ,probably. Nothing too flashy.

He knows all this because he spent almost two and a half years watching and learning about them.

He also knows that the reason Tyler hates him, the _real reason_, is because Will's friendship was a lie. He hates that he'd been stupid enough to trust him. He hates that the sense of belonging he'd had is gone. He hates himself for not seeing the truth.

I'm sorry, Will says. For everything.

Tyler has a sudden flash of premonition, and he raises his arms unconsciously in a futile attempt to block Will's punch, but he's not fast enough. It catches him low in the gut and he groans and falls down on the floor. He kicks frantically at Will.

Will wraps his arm around Tyler's neck, constricting his airway. He counts the seconds until he feels him go limp beneath him.

He waits and watches for the steady rise and fall of Tyler's chest. He looks young and vulnerable. Bruises are already starting to form on his throat.

He's always secretly sympathized with him, knowing what it's like to want someone's approval so desperately.

He pulls out Tyler's pockets. He has about a thousand dollars in cash on him, a map, a small pen knife, and some other odds and ends. He pockets the knife and the cash.

He looks over the other rooms for anything useful, but there is nothing. He peers out a dirty window.

He can see the outline of Jay's head in a grey car. It looks like the kind he would steal :common, not flashy at all,10-15 years old. Very generic.

One last look at Tyler. He's still out.

He leaves through the back door.

He's in a bad part of town. Vagrants and drug addicts litter the streets. Neon lights advertise strip clubs. Shifty looking men are going into them.

He shivers as the wind cuts through to him, stiffening the blood soaked clothes. He rips off a piece of his shirt and stuffs it in the bullet hole.

He exhales forcefully. A lacy halo swirls around his head, then dissolves into the night.

And then he starts walking.

* * *

Yeah, that's the best ending I could think of. Pretty sad. Also, I'm not sure what season it was supposed to be, so I just made it cold out. It fits better.

I don't think I'll write in this style anymore. It's disconcerting and troublesome to me.

Review and I'll love you forever :)


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